


It may be a cold country but you are the warmth in my bones.

by thatwhichweare



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Could someone kindly tell me what the hell I should put here? Thanks, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwhichweare/pseuds/thatwhichweare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots from a relationship, in 7 parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It may be a cold country but you are the warmth in my bones.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly can't remember who beta read this. If it's you, do send me a message.

one.

Working in such close proximity for 12 years, it's turned them into something closer than a family. They love each other not in spite of their faults but for them because without them, who are they, really? 

 

two.

Most nights, he doesn't go home, even though it's less than an hour away. It's started to feel a little cold, a little small, a little too un-lived-in. Besides, why bother when he'll be called back to manage some crisis or other in a few hours? Alistair's been kind enough to let him sleep in the spare room of his 10 Downing Street flat to make up for it.

He's taken to calling the small flat home because it's starting to feel like one. It's not just the presence of personal effects that makes it what it is, it's also waking up to the sounds of Alistair pottering around in the kitchen, making toast and tea. What more could he want? .

 

three.

Alistair doesn't know the point at which he started to find beauty in the lines of his spine and the curve of his neck, when everything changed. But it doesn't really matter now, does it?

 

four.

When two separate "he"'s become them, Alistair finds it frighteningly easy to read Peter. He isn't such a indecipherable mystery anymore. The meaning and the feeling behind each gesture becomes glaringly obvious, but only to him. It's a privilege he treasures.

 

five.

Alistair has learnt when the dip of Peter shoulders turns weary, when he is drained and at the end of this tether. During cabinet meetings, they usually sit together and when Peter's having a particularly rough morning, he will hold his hand under the table, rubbing his thumb against his knuckles in calming circles. Despite not being a very tactile person, Alistair will give him this, and he will allow him many things besides.

 

six.

On most mornings, Peter's sharp nose will be pressed into the nape of his neck when Alistair wakes up. And there will be drool all over the back of his shirt. He thinks that he he could probably get used to this, waking up with another warm body in his bed.

 

seven.

He's been lonely for most of his life, either too busy studying or working to do anything about it. Besides, what woman wants a relationship with someone who's going prematurely white? But over the years, he has finally managed to grow into himself, grow into his own skin. Peter has seen him at his best, when it's 5am in the morning and they have finally, finally figured out how to get the country safely out of the epic financial mess and also at his worst, when everything he does seems to be hurting more than helping and he's bitterly doubting himself. He still accepts him for who he is, which is more than what could be said about many of the marriages and relationships between people up and down the country.

Perhaps it's not the most sexy and exciting thing but sexy and exciting do eventually grow old and fizzle out. What they are is a slow burn in Alistair's heart, a warmth in Peter's bones. And it's enough. They are enough.


End file.
